


to you, i'll always run

by yasikah



Category: VICTON (Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dreams, Han Seungwoo-Centric, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, implied mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26117533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasikah/pseuds/yasikah
Summary: Seungwoo woke up in a familiar place.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66
Collections: Challenge #5 - Lullabies and Dreams





	to you, i'll always run

Seungwoo was fifteen when he woke up in That Place for the first time.

Greeting him was an unfamiliar face with dark hair covering his eyes and a lopsided smile. “Wake up, hyung, or you’re not getting breakfast,” he said. Still half-conscious, Seungwoo followed him down the stairs to a kitchen smelling of butter and cream cheese, where several people were sitting around an oval table. One of them was animatedly reciting a story, the utensils brandished in his hands acting as makeshift weapons for his fictional battle. The two boys sitting opposite him nodded along, completely engaged by the narrator, while the blond one beside him was dozing off above his plate of waffles.

The one seated at the far end, who looked like the oldest, gave Seungwoo a kind smile. “Good morning, hyung. What kept you up so late?”

Others turned to him in a chorus of _“morning”s_ and _“Seungwoo-hyung”s_ before returning to their conversation.

Seungwoo didn’t recognize any of them.

“Where am I?”

The kitchen fell silent as every head spun around toward Seungwoo again. The sleepy blond looked up from his lap, took one glance at him and concluded, “It’s not our Seungwoo-hyung.”

“Oh,” the oldest said. The room started swirling around then, and Seungwoo adjusted his eyes to his familiar cream-colored ceiling in Busan. He could hear the rain pattering on the roof and his mom calling for him to get ready.

He got out of bed and promptly forgot about the dream.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

The second time happened when he was seventeen.

“It’s the perfect weather to fall asleep, isn’t it?” Someone said, and Seungwoo blinked his eyes open to a sea of gold. In front of him was a vast field of… _something_ , glimmering and stretching to an infinite skyline. It was as if the whole world was doused with sepia-toned paints, only a thousand times more vibrant and stunning.

“You okay?” That same voice asked. Seungwoo wasn’t sure, so he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. The sky was still gloriously amber. He turned to his companion and was startled by his own recognition.

“It’s you. The kitchen.” The oldest of them, appearing quite a bit older now. His hair was no longer black, soft honey-colored strands framing his sharp jawline nicely. His eyes were still kind, albeit curious as they studied Seungwoo. They widened as the realization hit.

“You’re the other Seungwoo.”

“Am I?” Seungwoo frowned down at the sketchbook in his lap, “This is my dream.”

“Is it for you?” The boy laughed, delighted. “Hanse would’ve loved to be here. He’s very devoted to his ‘other worlds’ theories.”

Three years ago, Seungwoo, too, would’ve loved if someone knowledgeable could explain to him what the hell was going on. But seventeen-year-old Seungwoo reclined against a heap of that cushy, golden _something_ and closed his eyes. “This is nice.”

“My- our Seungwoo-hyung thinks so too.”

Seungwoo raised an amused eyebrow at the stuttering boy, _“My?”_

“Don’t,” he huffed. “It’s all one-sided… Why am I telling you this?”

“I’m a good listener,” Seungwoo shrugged, “and your Seungwoo sounds like an idiot.”

That drew a smile out of his companion. _Seungsik_ , _Seungsik_ , Seungwoo tried memorizing. He stayed there for a good few hours, trading questions back and forth with Seungsik before they both drifted off, their sketchbooks long abandoned.

Seungwoo ended up not remembering a single thing about That Place, only a boy with hair that looked like silk.

He spent months wishing he'd asked to touch.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

The third time, Seungwoo was running.

There was no direction in that forest, engulfed by the windless night. Seungwoo didn’t dare to look back at whatever was chasing him, just sprinting forward with all his might even as his fatigued legs threatened to give out. It felt like hours before he saw the door, its shadow lit up by a bright warm glow from behind. He yanked the handle open.

Many faces turned to him, all of them more familiar this time. He rushed toward the one he knew most and fell into Seungsik’s arms.

“What happened?” Seungsik sounded alarmed.

“It’s the other Seungwoo,” someone clarified. _Hanse, that was Hanse._

“Don’t…” Seungwoo sobbed into Seungsik’s shoulder, “please don’t let me wake up. I don’t want to wake up.”

Seungsik held his breath for a tense, suffocating moment before releasing it in a slow exhale. He smoothed his hands down Seungwoo’s back, tender and comforting. “It’s okay, hyung. I’m here. We’re here.”

Seungwoo learned all of their names, eventually. Subin who woke him up that first morning; Sejun the excitable storyteller; Chan and Byungchan who indulged the tales; and Hanse, who told him all about parallel universes.

“Did Seungsik ever confess?”

“That’s what you wanna know?” Hanse gave him a disbelieving scowl. Seungwoo couldn’t ask him the other things he wanted to know.

_(Are there other versions of you guys in my world? Can I find you? Will we recognize each other?)_

_(Do you miss your Seungwoo?)_

_~~(Can I stay?)~~ (Will you miss me when he returns?)_

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

After his sixth year in That Place, Seungwoo forgot those questions.

Instead, he learned that time moved differently there. They said it'd been over two decades since their first meeting, though Seungwoo felt barely a few years had passed.

That electricity wasn’t a thing. The golden _something_ harnessed energy and provided power for the houses, however few there were in that quiet town they lived.

That the sun didn’t set. The sky was an eternally amber color. Only under the white light of their bedroom did he find out Seungsik’s hair was pink. His cheeks were pink too, whenever Seungwoo called his name.

He held onto Seungwoo’s fingers in their sleep.

“I’m not going anywhere.” It was stupid of him to make promises in the dark, but Seungwoo did anyway.

Seungsik kissed his knuckles. "I know."

Seungwoo's vision blurred, and when it cleared, he was back in his empty goshiwon in Seoul, twenty again.

He let out a scream.

**Author's Note:**

> *Goshiwon: a very small, box-like apartment for low-income tenants. (Seungwoo used to live in one before moving into the trainee dorm.)
> 
> This was based on a series of dreams I had two years ago. In my version, when I entered the "other world" for the last time, I and the people I made a life with knew after I woke up that last time I could never find a way back. We had our goodbyes. I cried a lot when I woke up. Strange days.
> 
> Angst is not my thing, but this challenge made me recall the dreams and put them into words. I'd like to believe Seungwoo found a way back, or forward, after these 1000 words ended.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think?


End file.
